


Fuck or (Someone Will) Die

by lornrocks



Category: Fandom: Heroes
Genre: Fingering, Heroes, M/M, bjs, buttsecks, petlar, promptfest, pylar, thehunger
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-24
Updated: 2013-06-24
Packaged: 2017-12-16 00:52:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/855907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lornrocks/pseuds/lornrocks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The hunger flares up and Sylar needs a distraction. Peter is more than willing to give it to him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fuck or (Someone Will) Die

"But she was seriously trying to get me to go to this thing with her, and-"

Peter's attention is stolen from Hesam's wild retelling of some anecdote when he feels his phone buzz in his pocket. Looking around, he notices that their little group had shrunk by one member, and he hadn't even noticed. Frowning, he pulls his phone out of his pocket.

_"New text message from: Gabe Read Now?"_

He clicks okay. On the screen, are two little words.

_Help me._

Emma catches his eye. By now, she recognizes when Peter's upset about something. She's about to say something when he motions towards the exit with his eyes. Realization dawns and Emma nods once.

Peter heads out door, hitting reply as he goes.

 _Be right there,_ he writes, then tucks his phone back into his pocket. He pulls his collar up and walks resolutely against the harsh, blowing wind. He knows that there's only a few places Sylar could be, and since their apartment is only three blocks away, he heads there first.

He's barely made it inside his apartment when he hears the frantic mental hum emanating from the living room. For once, Peter is thankful to have telepathy as his current power, as he can just make out what the other man is thinking.

_Stopdon'tPeterwillgetmadhe'lleavehecan'tleavestopthinkingaboutityou'rebetterthanthisyou'vechanged..._

Words jumble together and Peter inwardly winces. Taking small steps, Peter walks slowly towards the couch, where Sylar is sitting, hunched over and staring at the floor. He's tucked his legs up on to the couch and has wrapped his arms around them.

Peter makes sure he's well within the other man's line of sight as he stands in front of him.

"Gabriel," he begins, softly, and the man in question looks up at Peter.

"What's wrong?"

Sylar's dark eyes are shining with unshed tears and his grip around his knees tightens.

"I can't control it, Peter," he whispers, and Peter's face softens. He remembers all too well how strong the Hunger can be. Carefully, he sits down next to Sylar on the couch and gently rests a hand on his shoulder.

"What happened?" he asks, slowly, and Sylar starts to slide his legs back down to floor level.

"Everytime I'm around Emma, all I can see is her power." He swallows a gulp of air to keep his voice steady. "I want it so bad and the worst part is, I can...I can just _see_ myself cutting open her head."

Peter shakes his head and puts one hand on both sides of Sylar's face so he can direct his gaze.

"But you haven't done it. You haven't even tried." He rubs little circles with his thumbs against the taller man's jawbone. "You've been so good."

Sylar grabs Peter's wrists and tugs his hands away, then stands up.

"I don't know how much longer I can do this. It's like going through withdrawal. It was one thing when it was just you and I for five years but now...there's just so many people with abilities, walking around..." His hands scrunch into fists.

"If I had Emma's ability," he says, finally, "I could call them all to me and kill them."

As if realizing what he just said, Sylar's face scrunches up and he buries his face in his hands.

"I'm a monster..." he groans, and in a second Peter is standing in front of him, pulling his hands away.

"Look at me," he says, but Sylar keeps looking at the ground. Taking a breath, he commands, " **Look at me.** "

Immediately, Sylar's eyes snap up to look at his roommate.

"Think of something else," Peter whispers, hands squeezing a commanding grip on the taller man's shoulders.

"I can't," comes the reply.

Peter thinks for a second before making a split decision. He moves his hands up, tangles it in dark locks, and stands up on tippy toe. His lips are demanding and rough, taking the taller man by surprise.

For what seems like an eternity, Peter is on his own, until finally, _finally_ , equally pushy hands dig at his hips and tug at his jacket. Somehow, they manage to make it past the French doors and into Peter's bedroom, tumbling down onto the unmade bed.

Sylar starts to unbutton the buttons on Peter's jacket, but Peter grabs his wrist. Dark, hungry eyes glare down at Peter, as if to say, "You really want to stop this now?"

Peter shakes his head and squeezes. Sylar can feel a slight tingle and realizes Peter is taking one of his powers.

"Regeneration," Peter whispers, promise dripping in his tone. Sylar grins and continues undoing the buttons. However, it seems to take longer than he'd like, because he gives up and slices it open, buttons falling to the floor with a tiny "thwack".

"I like that coat," Peter grumbles, but is silenced by a hot mouth being crushed against his.

"Too bad," Sylar growls back, and continues to tug off articles of clothing without consideration for what state they'll be in when he's done.

Sylar is nothing if not efficient, and in no time both he and Peter are sprawled across the bed, freed of clothes and inhibitions. Peter moves into a sitting position, and the other man mirrors him until they're both sitting up, facing each other.

"I want you to do anything and everything you want to me," he says, making sure to catch dark eyes in with his own. "Okay?"

A familiar, wolfish smile spreads across the other man's face and he nods.

"Absolutely, Peter."

With the flick of a finger, Peter is pushed back down against the bed by an invisible force. His arms are held down against the bed on either side of his head, and his legs are held down straight out and just a little bit apart.

Sloppy, open-mouthed kisses are pressed across his chest, down his stomach, and finally, one on each hip bone. Peter groans and tries to lift his hips, but is much dismayed to realize they're being held down.

Deep down inside, Peter knows all Sylar wants is control. He thrives on having people at his mercy, and that's why he would wait in the dark for two hours for some poor schmuck with an ability to come home so he could cut their head open and watch them scream.

Fortunately for Peter, he didn't have to let Sylar cut his head open to relieve the man's addiction. He could let Sylar hold him down and scream for completely different reasons.

This was the first time since they broke out of Matt's prison that Sylar had actually had a problem with being around other people, and definitely the first time that they'd ever actually gotten physical. In the real world, anyway.

Five years is an awful long time, after all.

Peter's thoughts are cut short by Sylar's lips enveloping over the head of his cock and he actually whimpers in the most embarrassingly high pitched way that he never thought he was capable of.

Sylar chuckles and the vibrations are enough to make Peter bite at his lip and groan.

Almost agonizingly slow, Sylar starts to lave his tongue up and down. Peter thinks it can't get any more torturous than this until a single finger slides up inside him.

Peter leans his head back and keens loudly. The assault on his body speeds up; he knows how much the other man gets off on the feedback that Peter gives.

So Peter starts to babble and moan with complete wanton abandon, stressing random syllables and swearing and he swears he can feel Sylar's breath hitch.

After letting Sylar finger him with two more fingers added, he lifts his head up as much as the invisible bonds will allow and groans, "Fuck me."

His cock is released from the other man's mouth with a wet "pop" and he can just make out the evil smile spread across his features.

"I would love to," he replies, and wordlessly, seamlessly, shifts so he's kneeling in front of Peter. Hitching the legs on either side of him onto his hips, Sylar pushes inside.

Peter arches his back and struggles to look up from under heavily lidded eyes.

"Yeah," he manages to mumble, biting his lip, and Sylar pulls out and shoves back in, hard, eliciting a shout from the man beneath him.

"You're a cockslut, aren't you?" he asks, voice even, despite his now snapping hips against Peter's.

"I'm your cockslut," Peter babbles back, eyes fluttering closed as Sylar hits a spot that makes him feel like he's dying of sensation.

Sylar's fingers push bruising circles into Peter's hips as he speeds up his thrusts, feeling himself already getting close.

"Forever and ever?" he breathes, barely more than a whisper over the sound of their slicked bodies. He moves a hand to curl around Peter's cock, giving a few jerks.

"And always," Peter whispers in reply, eyes gazing up at the figure looming above him. Sylar lets out a suspicious exhale that seems to be a cover for a noise of surprise, but instead of letting Peter say something about it, he speeds up his movements on the body below him.

"I'm going to come, come with me," he half asks and half commands, and Peter realizes the invisible bonds on his body are gone. He leans up on one elbow, pulls Sylar's face down with the other arm, and leans in close.

"I'm going to," he breathes, strong gaze never leaving the other man's. With a jerk, Peter starts to come and smashes his lips against Sylar's, groaning into his mouth as he feels the warmth of being filled up.

They stay like that for a few seconds, panting and trying to get their heart rates back to normal. Peter tries to go in for another kiss, but Sylar pulls away and stands up.

"Thank you, Peter," he says, eyes cast to the floor. Peter's brow furrows.

"What are you doing?"

"You don't have to act like this wasn't a pity fuck, it's okay."

Peter sighs, reaches an arm out, and grabs onto Sylar's wrist.

"It wasn't, at all. If you don't believe me, use Lydia's power." Sylar's eyes, which were so full of confidence and hunger a few minutes ago, have gone back to their more common, sad state.

"Okay?"

Sylar nods.

"Good. Now get back here and cuddle with me. I want to wake up next to you in the morning."

Reluctantly, Sylar lets Peter pull him back on to the bed, where he pulls the covers over them and lays a warm hand over Sylar's heart.

"We're going to get through this, babe. As long as I have you, and you have me, we can do this."

Sylar nods and presses a kiss to the younger man's forehead.

"If you say so, Pete."

He can feel Peter's mouth curl into a smile against his skin.

"I know so, Gabe. Now go to sleep. In the morning, I'm jumping you again."

Sylar laughs.

"I think I'm going to replace one hunger for another," he mumbles against Peter's hair, and Peter's fingers tighten their grip on the other man's skin.

"Good."

Without another word, Sylar turns the light off and settles down to listen to the sound of his bedmate's heart beating until he feels his eyelids grow heavy. He dozes off, and for the first time in months, he doesn't have nightmares about his past. Instead, he dreams about the future.

A brave new world, indeed.

**Author's Note:**

> Written forever ago on LJ.


End file.
